


Not But For You

by RESimon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:12:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RESimon/pseuds/RESimon
Summary: “You’re very calm about this,” Hermione stated bluntly.“Having established that neither of us was a virgin before last night, what exactly is there to not be calm about?” he asked, clearly amused.A long-standing birthday tradition leads Neville and Hermione to find themselves in bed together. This new and unexpected dynamic in their relationship leads the two to learn more about each other and themselves than they previously thought possible.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All! I am laid up at home today with an ankle injury, so I decided I'd post something I've been working on. This is the first work that I've posted and I'm very excited about it. As of now, I will be posting on a bi-weekly schedule, but if I end up being able to write more quickly than I think I will, we can see about more regular updates. I work full-time, though, so I really can't make any promises on that front, things get a bit unpredictable. I'll do my best to let you know ahead of time if anything changes or if I have to delay posting. You can follow me on tumblr at resimonfics, and I am on facebook as RE Simon. Beta love to blankfish who has been indispensable and has all but pulled the words from my head.

 

**Chapter 1**

15 September 1991

Hermione Granger had thought that once she got to Hogwarts she would find her place in the world — her  _people_ , so to speak. She had never fit in with anyone at her primary school; she had preferred to read on the swings instead of running around and pretending to be a princess waiting to be rescued by a knight, or a pop-star trying to entertain the masses. She hadn't been interested in talking about boys or hair, at the same time she hadn't been a sporty tomboy, nor did she like to climb trees or play football. On top of all of that, small but strange things were constantly happening around her: the things she dropped seemed to always land softly just before they crashed to the ground, people who were mean to her seemed to fall down or meet some other minorly unpleasant fate.

Finding out she was a witch had been a revelation in almost every sense of the word. She was told that she was one of many and that she could attend a school—  _a whole school—_ devoted to the education of other magical people. She had assumed that everyone would share her love of learning and that her struggle to fit in had been entirely because she was surrounded by non-magical students. She was rapidly disabused of this notion, however, as she quickly discovered that most girls would treat her the same no matter where she went. On top of that, there were people who didn't believe that she belonged in this world because she had Muggle parents. Her first two weeks had been challenging enough, never mind that her birthday was coming up.

She had never been particularly fond of her birthday.

For her sixth birthday, her mother had invited everyone in her class to her birthday party, purchased Hermione a new dress, and taken the time to tame her hair into two French braids. Hermione was very excited and waited patiently by the door for an hour. Then two hours. Four hours passed before her mother called her over and they had cake just the three of them, her parents singing her "Happy Birthday" with smiles on their faces that didn't quite reach their eyes. She caught her father holding her mother while she cried, sitting on their bed that evening after they thought Hermione had gone to sleep.

No, she did not like her birthday at all.

She had been struggling to make many friends at Hogwarts, which was a phenomenon not unusual to her. There were a few people she thought liked her at least okay, which was more than could have been said for her Muggle school. Her roommates did not like her. Fay Dunbar had a friend from home who had been sorted into Ravenclaw, whose name Hermione still did not know, and Lavender and Parvati seemed interested in only discussing beauty charms and whatever heartthrob was being featured in the newest edition of  _Witch Weekly_. Hermione was the odd one out in the room and none of the other girls made a notable effort to include her. Harry Potter was nice enough, but he was always with Ron Weasley, who wasn't overly fond of her— she had embarrassed him on the train because she had known more than him about spells and then pointed out that he had dirt on his nose.

It was all of this together that brought forth tears as she sat in her favorite corner of the library a few short days before her birthday, two weeks after her arrival at Hogwarts. She was at was a small table between two stacks, away from the main area where most people studied. She was often back here alone, which suited her just fine at this moment— she did not exactly relish the notion of an audience to her tears.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Neville asked sheepishly from where he stood at the other side of the table.

"What? Oh yes, just feeling a bit homesick is all. It's almost my birthday and I've never spent it away from my parents," Hermione said, clearing her throat and attempting to surreptitiously wipe her nose without looking too uncouth.

"Really?! I didn't know it was almost your birthday. When is it, exactly?" he asked with furrowed brows.

"September 19th— it's this Thursday, actually."

"Okay," he responded, having clearly decided something, but what, she had no clue. "Excuse me," He said resolutely before nodding and walking off. By and large, it was a strange interaction that provided enough of a distraction from her pity party to allow Hermione to refocus on her studying.

* * *

19 September 1991

On the morning of her birthday, Hermione was feeling positively glum. While she usually was a bit down on her birthday, she'd at least had her parents in previous years who would cheer her up with loving attention and extremely thoughtful gifts. Their absence this year drew attention to just how alone she was feeling so far at Hogwarts.

The Owl Post came just as she was sitting down, and a small parcel wrapped in brown paper with a bow atop it was dropped in front of her. The note attached read "To our dear Hermione — on her 12th birthday! We miss you. We love you. Happy Birthday!" Inside the box was a small, gold charm bracelet with exactly three charms on it: a book, a witch's hat, and a broom. The last was in reference to how much she told them she hated flying in her last letter. She smiled at the joke and put the bracelet on.

As she looked around the table in an attempt to decide what to eat for breakfast that morning, a hand slipped into view, placing a chocolate cake with a single candle in front of her.

"Happy birthday, Hermione!" Neville said with a small smile. Hermione gaped at him in surprise for a moment and she looked down at the cake, then back up at him.

"This is very kind, Neville, thank you!" she beamed at him across the table.

"It was the least I could do! I'll never have to spend a birthday away from my family because it's not during term, but I can imagine it makes the homesickness worse. Plus, you're my friend and I wanted to give you something nice for your birthday," his cheeks pinking a bit as he spoke. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of sugar quills and licorice wands with a very small box attached.

He handed them to her, to her continued surprise, and she opened the box to find a small toad charm for her bracelet inside.

"I didn't know what you'd like, so I owled your parents and they told me what they were getting you and recommended another charm. I also remembered that you said they were, erm, tooth healers and didn't let you eat many sweets, but I thought since it was your birthday you deserved a treat. These are a couple of my favorite wizarding sweets, there's no pressure for you to like them or any—"

She cut him off by lunging across the table to embrace him. It was an unusual display from the usually reserved witch and caught a few eyes, but she didn't care. It was the best birthday she had ever had and she had Neville Longbottom to thank. Her first birthday at Hogwarts with her first friend at Hogwarts was the best she'd had in her twelve years.

* * *

19 September 2005

It had become a tradition for Hermione to spend her birthdays with Neville after that first one. Her parents swore up and down after her twelfth birthday that they were now going to give her a charm for her bracelet on every gift-giving occasion from now on, and promptly forgot by Christmas. Neville, however, had given her a charm for every birthday since. She had so many by her 26th birthday that she could not remember them all, save for a few. She would never forget her Trevor charm as it was the first, other standouts were a galleon (for the DA), a mandrake (to remind her of the good parts of second year, he had joked), and a quill (for her love of sugar quills).

Neville had managed to undo years of damage in just a few short weeks of friendship, and her birthday was now a day she looked forward to every year with relish. This year, however, she found that she would much rather spend her birthday on her couch and mope. Having recently been dumped by someone she could have seen herself getting serious with, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of her fire with a bottle of red wine and a blanket. Hermione knew that going to see Neville would cheer her up, but it felt like so much. She took a moment to center herself—she had not missed a birthday with Neville in 16 years, not even when she had appendicitis two years prior and they had found themselves celebrating in her hospital room, much to the chagrin of her healers. No, she would not miss tonight either, despite her desire to remain exactly as she was.

Hermione took a deep breath, grabbed her bottle of wine, and called out his floo address before she could change her mind.

"Happy Birthday!" Neville greeted her with a beatific smile. She knew that he loved this tradition as much as she did. It had long been acknowledged among their friends that he was the best at selecting gifts for Hermione—for every holiday, not just her birthday— but he got to stand out on her birthday because she was the only one receiving gifts.

"Thank you, Neville," she said quietly, returning his smile with a false one of her own, returning his hug.

"What's wrong? Why are you sad? It's your birthday, it's not allowed," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Blaise dumped me last week," Hermione responded blandly, pressing the wine into Neville's chest before walking toward his couch.

"I thought things were going well, what happened?" he inquired as he moved toward his kitchen, which abutted the den where she was now lounging on his couch.

"I asked him to be exclusive, said I could see a future with him. His response was, and this is verbatim, mind you, 'Ohhhhhhhh, no,'" She mimicked his intonation as she recounted the story to Neville.

"Tosser. You're too good for him anyway. I thought so the whole time, to be honest, but you were happy and I didn't want to spoil that." Neville handed her a glass containing a generous serving of the vintage. She downed the thing in one and gestured for a second pour, this one was less generous. Hermione did not normally drink on Mondays, but it was her birthday, she was healing, and she had already taken the next day off.

"Next time please say something, I really trust your opinion and it might have saved me a lot of wasted time."

"Wasted time, pfft," he waved his hand dismissively at this, "you've only just turned twenty-six today. Why rush to settle down?"

"I'm just—  _ready_. Of our close friends, it's only you and I that haven't settled down. I want a child of my own, which may be selfish, but it's how I feel. The women in my mother's family are prone to early menopause. It took my parents years to have me and my mother stopped being able to have children while I was still young. Granted, they started later in life than 26, it takes time to both become a dentist and set up a successful dental practice, and then there's the fact that my fertile years would possibly be longer because of being a witch, but that's no guarantee," she rambled, finally pausing to take a breath.

She took several large sips of her wine before looking over at Neville, who sat silent and wide-eyed next to her on the couch and sighed. "I am just ready to settle down and it is frustrating that no one seems to want me," she said, hiccuping into her glass.

Neville hugged her close into his side on the couch and kissed her head.

"You're wonderful and someday you'll find someone who appreciates you. Don't you dare lower your standards again and date someone like Zabini."

She nodded slowly, sighing into the embrace as she lowered her head to his shoulder. He always knew what to say to make her feel better. She noticed two things as she leaned her head against his shoulder. The first being that he smelled incredible—a mix of freshly turned soil, the green of plants in the spring, a hint of his aftershave that still lingered from his morning shave, soap, and just  _man—_  it was a heady mix.

The second was just how strong his arms were around her. She had consciously been aware that he'd slimmed down in their later years at Hogwarts, but she hadn't really thought on it very thoroughly at all because, well, it's Neville, and she hadn't previously spent much time at all thinking about Neville's body and what it might look like without clothes. She wondered if the rest of him was as hard and well muscled as his arms.

 _Get it together woman, good grief,_ she thought, shaking her head. She cleared her throat and reached to take another sip of her wine in an attempt to center herself. This was a mistake, however, because Neville saw what she was planning and picked up her glass and handed it to her, which resulted in her looking at his face. He really had grown to be quite handsome, she mused as she took her sip with a small smile, returning her glass to the coffee table. He had a mostly straight nose— it had a slight bend about halfway down the bridge where it had been broken by one of the Carrows and never healed quite right— and full lips that looked petal soft. This close to him, she could easily see clearly how striking his hazel eyes were, a mossy green on the outside that shifted to an almost ochre toward his pupil with amber streaked throughout, not quite in a true spiral, but  _almost._

It was also then that she noticed that her breathing had picked up and that the longer she looked at his eyes the darker they became as his pupils dilated. She pulled back, slightly embarrassed, and took one last sip of her wine before she leaned across him in an attempt to put her glass back down on the coffee table, only to spill her wine on his shirt.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry, Neville! This was a nice shirt, too. Let me take care of it," she exclaimed.

Due to the combination of confusion, embarrassment, and wine, her haste to try and wordlessly siphon the wine off of his shirt, caused her to vanish his shirt altogether.

She knew her face was blooming a bright shade of red even as she shamelessly took in the sight of him, wanting to answer her earlier question about his physique. His abdomen was impossibly more toned than his arms and Hermione felt her mouth water as she took in the peaks and valleys of his torso. He was fairly hirsute without being too hairy, his upper chest bearing a thick covering of blond hair, slightly darker than the sandy colored hair on his head, but not so thick that she couldn't see his skin underneath, and narrowing to a thinner trail below his pecs that lead past his adonis belt into his trousers.

"If you keep staring like that I might begin to think you like what you see," he teased.

"I don't know that I've ever seen you without a shirt and this is decidedly not the context in which I expected it would happen — it's taking me a moment to fully absorb what's before me."

When asked later, neither could tell you who initiated the kiss, but they both agreed it was a fairly earth-shattering one.

While he kept one arm wrapped around Hermione's back, Neville raised his left hand to her face, cupping her cheek for a moment before sliding it down her neck and shoulder to rest on her ribs below her right breast. He shifted his hips to rest between hers as he lowered her to the couch and she could feel the beginnings of his erection through her leggings and his trousers. She moaned against Neville's mouth as his hand slid up to cup her breast over her top. His thumb brushed lightly over her nipple as his tongue found its way into her mouth and she arched up into his hand with a sigh. His kisses were like wildfire and at that moment she was perfectly content to allow herself to burn.

He broke away from her mouth and began to kiss down her throat as her hands traveled down his back to grab his firm arse. His hips bucked into hers and she released a closed-mouth moan deep in her throat. At that, he wound both arms around her back and picked her up as though she weighed nothing.

It was possibly the hottest thing she could remember, she mused as he carried her to his bedroom where he deposited her on his bed. She scrambled back on the mattress toward the headboard, pulling her jumper over her head as she went.

She must have made a noise signaling her approval, because he smirked at her then, and with a cheeky grin, he pulled her toward him by her foot. His hands found the clasp of her bra quickly and divested her of the garment before latching his mouth onto one nipple while his hand plucked away gently, but firmly, at the other. It was bliss.

She began trying to shimmy out of her skirt and tights without dislodging him from her breasts and she felt him chuckle lightly against where he continued to suck at her breast before swatting her hands away as he began kissing down her stomach, intent on divesting her of the rest of her clothes — and her sanity — himself. When he reached her hips he slid a hand around to her back and lowered the zipper before grabbing the waist of her skirt, tights, and knickers at once and removing all three garments in one fell swoop. He leaned back to take in her now entirely naked form, looking like a starving man being presented with his first meal in days. His eyes began at her hair, moving over her kiss-swollen lips, following her flush down her throat to her full breasts, further down over her soft stomach to the neatly trimmed patch of hair covering her glistening pussy.

She briefly reconsidered her earlier thought about the way he carried her being the hottest thing she'd ever been party to because she was now certain that this was it, but didn't have long to consider it because in the next breath his tongue began slowly and deliberately tracing along her slit. She released a high-pitched moan and threw her head back, allowing him to explore her tongue first, all the while becoming more aggressive in his movements by the moment.

"A little lower, just to the ri—THERE. Yes! Merlin! There!" she keened as he finally found her clit, alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and brushing it with broad strokes. She could hear how wanton she sounded, but couldn't bring herself to care, her world was narrowing to the exact spot where his tongue met her clit.

He seemed to be taking as many of his cues from her physical responses as from her spoken words, and it was an other-worldly experience. Most men she had been with at this point took it as a personal affront if she gave them any sort of direction in bed, as though it were a critique of their worth as a man and not simply letting them know where her clitoris was and what she would like done to it.

This line of thought was cut short by the feeling of his tongue entering her and effectively wiping her brain of any conscious thought, and she grabbed the back of his head with both hands to keep him where he was. "Keep. Doing. That. Please.  _Gods_ ," she panted, her back arching up off the bed.

He draped an arm across her hips to hold her to the bed and used a thumb to rub her clit as he continued to lap at her entrance, entering her every few strokes. She felt the muscles in her lower abdomen drawing tight as she drew closer to her climax. It was within reach, but not quite.

As if sensing this, Neville changed tactics, curling two of his fingers inside of her, quickly finding a spot she only ever managed to find with toys by accident, and with this action alone she swore her heart had stopped. Before her heart could begin beating once again, he took his clit between his lips and sucked. The dual sensations were almost more than she could take as she felt herself barrelling toward her orgasm twice as quickly as before. He continued to stroke her front wall while alternating between lapping at and sucking on her clit until she felt the tension snap and came, hard, around his fingers. He continued to stimulate her as she came down from her climax, still breathing hard.

He removed his fingers from her vagina and made eye contact as he lewdly brought them to his mouth and licked them clean of her arousal. Once his fingers were clean, he pulled back to undo his belt to take off his trousers and pants. As she took in his naked form, she couldn't help the wanton, hungry moan that left her. He had what was possibly the most glorious cock she'd ever seen. Long— impossibly so, she thought with a hint of trepidation—and thick enough that she could tell just from looking that he would stretch her considerably. It was flushed pink without looking angry, well proportioned, not too many veins.

It was beautiful. It was perfect. She needed it inside her now.

At this realization, she sprung up from the bed with renewed energy and drew him into a hungry kiss. She took him in her hand and discovered that she couldn't bring her thumb to meet her fingertip around him. She moaned into his mouth and squeezed him, bucking her hips. She was lost to her desire and barely clinging on to her sanity. Neville slipped a hand into her hair and separated their faces and removing her hand from his cock so he could look her in the eye.

"You're sure? This is what you want?" he asked, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

"I'm sure that if you don't put that beautiful cock inside me right now I will never speak to you again," she all but growled at him, her patience running thin. She appreciated his attempt to give her an out and that he made sure they were still on the same page, but she was so consumed by her lust at this point that if she had to live even a moment longer without knowing how his cock would feel in her pussy she might combust. He chuckled and pulled her close for a sweet kiss, laying her back on the bed.

Once Neville had her laid out beneath him, he spread her legs, bringing one bent knee to rest by his hip as he lined himself up at her entrance, rubbing himself against her in an attempt to coat his member in her arousal before also casting a wandless, wordless lubrication charm-the third thing that night which made Hermione question what the most attractive thing she had ever witnessed was.

She moaned unabashedly as he slowly began to enter her, stretching her just as deliciously as she imagined. It felt as though he was touching every inch of her pussy and it was beyond words. He had, quite literally, fucked the words from her brain and as he—unfathomably—bottomed out she was reduced to monosyllabic, pleading babbles.

He gave her a moment to adjust to his size despite her repeated invocations of "Please. Neville. Gods. Fuck. So good." Neville held himself above her on his left elbow, using his right hand to bring her other knee to his corresponding hip. When he was sure she was ready he began to slowly thrust and she was all but sobbing.

"Please, Neville, please, faster," she begged, with a hand smoothing along either side of his face, between pants.

He nodded, grunting, and picked up the pace of his thrusts, turning his face into one of her palms and placing a kiss there. He brought one hand to her clit and began to stroke surely, determined to bring her off at least once more before he found his end. With the additional stimulation, she began hurtling toward the cliff's edge of her climax at a breakneck pace.

From beneath lust weighted lids, she watched his face for a while, occasionally looking down to where they were joined. He was breathtaking in this state, hair falling across his face, flushed from the effort with ecstasy written across his features, almost serene looking if not for the obvious strain of his movements and heavy breathing. She could tell he was getting ready to cum when his breathing began to come in harsh pants and his moans took on an almost grunt-like quality, growing louder, almost becoming shouts.

Her orgasm took her by surprise, and she shattered unexpectedly, her vision whiting out. The only clue that Neville followed her over the edge his shouted moan and the feeling of him, heavy atop her where he collapsed. She managed to move her hands from either side of her hair to wrap them around his back and hold him closer to her as they each drifted back down into their bodies. Neville rolled off of her, cast a cleaning charm on them both, and pulled her back into his chest so they were spooning. They were both peacefully asleep within moments, the pull of the wine they had consumed earlier and the effort of their carnal activities too great to fight.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning to wait until next week to post, but I was so overwhelmed by the response the first chapter had that I decided to post early! Moving forward, I will probably stick to every other Tuesday, but I just couldn't help myself. I'm so beside myself excited that y'all are loving this and I live for your comments. I am on Tumblr at resimonfics and Facebook as RE Simon. Beta love to blankfish, without whom this story would still just be an idea kicking around the back of my mind.

**Chapter 2**

20 September 2005

Hermione woke up the next morning with a slight headache, a dry mouth, and a distinctly male presence behind her. She snuggled back into Blaise's warmth, intending to go back to sleep, only for her eyes to fly open a moment later as she realized that this man was broader, had more body hair, and smelled differently than Blaise's signature cologne. She attempted to remain as still as possible as she took in what she could easily see of the man behind her. It was then that she realized that she was in Neville's bedroom, and relaxed slightly only for her eyes to fly open once again when she realized it must be Neville behind her.

Once she had her bearings about her, she simultaneously realized that she was naked, that Neville was naked, and that his impressive erection was pressed snugly against her back. The events of the previous night came crashing back to her and she squealed before immediately clapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, trying her hardest not to wake Neville.

Her attempt to hide her scream failed miserably as he pulled her closer into his chest with one arm while frantically pointing his wand around the room, trying to identify what she needed protecting from.

"Wha'sgoingon?" he rushed, still looking around the room wide-eyed as he tightened his grip on her again.

"Nothing, Neville, I'm fine. Just surprised," she soothed, running her hand up and down his arm to try and calm him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern written across his sleepy features.

"I don't know. I just—I wasn't—this is a lot to take in. I wasn't planning for this. I can't believe I let it happen this way," she responded in a small voice, fighting inexplicable tears. Neville had been one of her best friends for a long time and the idea that she could use him this way. He didn't deserve to be her rebound, she cared too deeply for him.

"Woah, hey. Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" he said, trying to turn her around so he could give her a hug, but she put a hand out to stop him. It was then that she realized that he was still holding her so tightly to him that she could feel his hard cock nestled against her lower back, and quickly shifted away while still holding the sheet to her chest awkwardly.

"I just need a moment to collect myself. This is a lot to take in," she repeated, taking a deep breath and pointing her eyes to the ceiling and blinking several times in an attempt to stay her tears.

"Hermione, was this—" he cleared his throat, "was this your first time?" Neville rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes, before looking at her with a sympathetic expression.

"What in Merlin's name?  _No_ , you did not take my virginity last night, Neville! What in the world would possibly give you that idea? Good Gods. I'm twenty-six for fuck's sake, what kind of sad spinster do you think I am?!" she huffed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, but over the sheet in an attempt to keep herself covered.

"In my defense," Neville started, his hands raised as if in surrender, "I just woke up, and you seemed very upset. I'm not exactly used to waking up to crying witches in my bed, it was the first explanation that came to mind. I'd have hated to have taken that moment from you unintentionally. It's supposed to be  _special_ and when you said you didn't mean to 'let it happen this way,' I thought…" he trailed off.

"I've never had unattached sex before. It's always only ever been with someone I'd been dating. You did nothing wrong, you've been nothing but sweet since I got here yesterday."

She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed at her touch and smiled at her for a moment before sliding out of the bed. At the sight of his still-hard cock, she let out a surprised squeak and pointed her gaze to the ceiling. Neville looked down at his erection before letting out an easy laugh, letting his lips curve into a smirk.

"If it's my modesty you're attempting to protect, don't worry about it. I've nothing to be ashamed of," he teased. " _And_  you got a pretty good look last night. I have to say, I far prefer the kind of yelling you were doing last night to the yelling you've done this morning," He winked at her before he turned and sauntered into the loo.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hermione sank into the pillows, releasing a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, still reeling over the fact that he still seemed to be completely relaxed around her. He was acting as though nothing had changed, only concerned over the fact that she might have been upset over his actions, and not at all concerned with the fact that they had extremely dirty sex the night before. Only a few hours ago he had had his  _entire_   _tongue_  deep inside of her, and now he was calmly going about his morning in the loo.

She was baffled, to say the least.

When he returned to the room he had on only a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, and was holding a steaming mug of tea in each hand, and she flushed as she realized that she'd spent the past fifteen minutes panicking instead of dressing herself. He said nothing of her attire as she secured the sheets around her nakedness while she sat up, and instead handed her a mug with a smile. She wrapped both hands around it, reveling in its warmth.

He put his mug on his nightstand before turning to his dresser where he pulled out a soft jumper she recognized. She hadn't seen him wear it in several years and it was clearly too small for him, but he'd still kept it. He handed her the jumper and she took it thankfully, putting down her own mug before pulling it on. It was incredibly soft and was a bit long, reaching halfway down her thighs and the sleeves past her hands. She rolled the sleeves back enough to expose her small hands before retrieving her mug and drawing a deep sip.

"You're very calm about this," Hermione stated bluntly.

"Having established that neither of us was a virgin before last night, what exactly is there to not be calm about?" he asked, clearly amused. "I'm not exactly a stranger to sex, Hermione. I would have thought that it would be fairly obvious after last night, if I do say so myself." He chuckled at her answering blush. "It's also been a while, feels good to have done, well, what we've done."

"I don't know, I just...the idea that this might change things between us scares me. I think that's why I freaked out the way I did. I don't like being thrust into uncharted territory without a plan and a discussion and I hate the idea that I used you for a rebound." At this, he smiled, sitting at the edge of the bed next to her.

"Hermione, nothing has changed for me," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "This isn't the first time that I have had sex with someone who was a friend first, and in the past, I have been able to remain friends with sexual partners. I bloody  _danced_  with Luna at her wedding last year." He chuckled lightly as Hermione's brows drew together.

"You slept with  _Luna_? " Hermione gaped, surprised that she hadn't known this about her good friend.

"Eighth year, we lost our virginities to one another fairly early on in the term and kind of realized we just weren't compatible long term. It was special, though, I cherish the memory. S'why I was so concerned I'd robbed you of your opportunity for a special memory with a dirty, tipsy romp." He rubbed the back of his neck before continuing.

"I also learned the hard way that not everyone wants to stay your friend after you sleep together. I've dated casually since the war, but nothing ever too serious. When you cut the head off a snake with a sword, it apparently causes a lot of women to look at you in a new light. I always do my best to be respectful, mind, I'm not one for taking advantage, but not everyone is understanding when you try and break things off and say you want to still be friends. I haven't really dated much since I started teaching, not that I've really been looking for anything serious. Most female humans I've interacted were either teaching while I was a student or are currently students."

Hermione grimaced before downing the last sip of her tea. Neville still knew exactly how she liked her tea, and it had been precisely what she needed to calm her nerves. She looked at the clock and realized it was approaching lunchtime. On a Tuesday. A school day. During term. She leaped from the bed and started trying to gather her clothing.

"Neville! What will you tell Professor McGonagall about missing breakfast and your morning classes? I don't want you to have to give up this home. It was already special treatment that she let you live off the grounds, no matter that you're just beyond the borders of the wards. I'd hate if you had to move into the castle as an example." He started laughing and she shot him a quelling look.

"I only have afternoon classes on Tuesdays, remember? Same as every other year I've been teaching. The Headmistress doesn't require that every professor attend breakfast in the Great Hall every morning, we rotate and Tuesdays are one of my days to have a lie in. I do need to make it to lunch, though," he cringed a bit, "Not that I'm trying to get rid of you or anything, I like your company — truly." He quickly added.

"It's fine, I think I'm about ready to head home anyway. Some physical space from the scene of the crime, as it were—" she said with a flush, "might do me some good. As might a shower. I'll wash your jumper and return it as soon as I can, I promise. Thank you for celebrating with me!"

She hesitated, then hugged him around his waist and he brought his arms up around her shoulders, tucking her head against his chest.

"Last night doesn't have to be any more or any less than you want it to be. Just two friends taking care of one another's needs," he said quietly into her hair. Hermione nodded against his chest before breaking the hug and collecting the last of her garments from his room, his living room, and flooing home to take a shower.

* * *

After her shower, Hermione put Neville's jumper back on over a pair of black leggings— it really was quite comfortable, and if it didn't fit him any longer he wouldn't miss it for a few days, she reasoned. Hermione settled on her couch with the book she was currently reading and a cup of coffee, determined to make the most of the rest of her day off.

It was there that Ginny found her several hours later when she burst through the floo.

"Happy belated birthday! I brought Chinese takeaway, I had a craving and Harry said he's sick of both takeaway and this restaurant, so I thought we could treat each other," Ginny said, holding up two large, extremely full, white plastic bags.

"Smells delicious," Hermione mused, closing her book and moving to the floor to sit in front of the coffee table. At only three months pregnant, she really had no bump yet, which allowed Ginny to still get up and down from the floor easily, so they decided to eat at the coffee table.

After they had been eating in companionable silence for several minutes, Ginny turned a shrewd eye on Hermione.

"What's happened? You're very quiet," Ginny said, narrowing her eyes at Hermione.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose it starts with the fact that Blaise dumped me on Wednesday," she said.

At this, Ginny dropped the bit of chicken she was bringing to her mouth on the floor, chopsticks and all. "I'm sorry, he did  _what_? Do I need to hex his bollocks off? Or maybe he needs to see a healer for his entire brain? What happened?"

Hermione recounted the breakup a second time, having honestly forgotten that it had happened at all, but not wanting to lead with her encounter with Neville. She hoped the breakup would distract Ginny enough that she would be able to avoid telling her about the earth-shattering sex she had with one of her oldest friends.

"That's clearly not all that's bothering you, though. I know you, and if that was what's bothering you, you would already be showing signs of perking up after having talked about it," Ginny said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Hermione maintained her poker face and stared Ginny directly in the eye and she levelly delivered her next statement.

"Last night, I had hot, dirty,  _incredible_  sex with Neville." They maintained their eye contact for a moment before Ginny released a large breath.

"Of all the fucking times not to be able to drink. I had to be pregnant on the day that you fuck Neville, and can't even have a glass of wine while we unpack any of it," Ginny placed a hand over her eyes for a moment before looking back up at Hermione.

"Well, go on, I'm going to need more details than that."

"Why aren't you more surprised about this?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"I don't know. We've all had bets going on how long it would take you two to get together. You've taken longer than any of us thought, honestly," Ginny smiled cautiously, almost as she would approach a feral animal that she was trying not to spook.

"We aren't together. It was just one time. One insanely good time, but it's not a relationship," Hermione added cautiously, surprised to learn that her friends expected her and Neville to end up together. She had never seen their friendship that way, she'd never even thought of Neville in a sexual way until they were pretty much already having sex.

"I don't know what to do, Gin. He's so important to me and I've gone and bollocksed it all up," Hermione moaned, hanging her head in her hands fighting tears as her worries resurfaced.

"Did he react poorly? Was he treating you differently this morning? I'm sure it's not all that bad," she moved around to Hermione's side of the table and hugged the witch into her side.

"No, he was completely himself — he gave me this sweater, brought me tea, told me that he's managed to stay friends with previous partners. He even told me it didn't have to be any more or any less than I wanted it to be," she added, sniffling as she wiped away the few tears that managed to escape despite her best efforts.

"Maybe he didn't react poorly because he wants to do it again," Ginny waggled her eyebrows in an obvious attempt to cheer Hermione up. Hermione released a wet chuckle before another thought occurred to her.

"He said he wasn't looking for anything serious. What if he thinks I'm trying to tie him down? We had been talking about how badly I wanted to settle down and start a family right before everything started. I can't lose him," she said in an almost whisper, suppressing a sob at the end.

"There now, none of that," Ginny said, stroking Hermione's hair and resting her head on her shoulder. "It sounds like that isn't the case, and when have you ever known Neville to be anything but sweet and kind? I'm sure he would have awkwardly told you that he wasn't interested in a relationship whilst tripping over his words and multiple apologies before blushing beet red."

"When have I known Neville to be a sex god? There's a lot about him that's been surprising in the last twenty-four hours," Hermione whined.

Ginny's face spread into a Cheshire grin at this. "Is he really as well hung as Luna said? She wouldn't tell me much, but then again she probably thinks she did, getting information out of her is always a challenge."

"It was honestly the most beautiful penis I have ever seen, Gin. Long. And  _thick_ — so thick that I couldn't close my fingers around him," she added wistfully.

"Good for him," Ginny said, nodding thoughtfully before she pulled Hermione back into her once more, and the two sat cuddled together on the floor until Ginny had to return home so they could both go to sleep.

That night, Hermione decided that Neville's comfortable jumper would be a comfortable sleep shirt as well, falling asleep surrounded in the smell of him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on the first two chapters, I can't wait to hear what you have to say about this one! Reminder that I can be found on Tumblr at resimonfics, and on Facebook as RE Simon. Beta love to Blankfish, without whom this story would be an absolute mess. Enjoy, and let me know what you thought in the comments!

**Chapter 3**

30 September 2005

Hermione found that she had trouble remaining asleep the nights following her encounter with Neville, plagued with either turmoil over having allowed it to happen in the first place or vivid flashbacks which left her entirely too aroused to sleep. She could not get him out of her head all day at work, either, and often found herself drifting off into decidedly naughty daydreams until a coworker's question would drag her back to reality while she blushed fiercely.

After almost two weeks of this, she finally decided that she would have to swing by his home after work and talk with him more directly than their first conversation.

Hermione stepped up to the floo to leave the Ministry and called out Neville's address, calling his name when she stepped out into his den. He came around the corner wearing only joggers and toweling off his hair, clearly having just come from the shower. Hermione felt her mouth go instantly dry before beginning to water at the sight of his muscled torso.

"Hey, 'Mione! Twice in as many weeks? You'd think it was near my birthday instead of yours," his smile was bright and she had every reason to believe that he didn't see her any differently. Maybe coming was a mistake and she had over thought the whole thing. "What brings you around?" he asked.

In for a penny, she thought wryly. "I was hoping we could talk more about the other night— I'll have to admit that I'm still struggling with it all."

His smile faltered momentarily before returning in full, but his eyes now held sympathetic concern. "Anything you need, Hermione. Do you want tea?" he asked, gesturing for her to sit on the sofa as he moved toward the attached kitchen, the scene drawing a parallel to her arrival on her birthday.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Hermione sat quietly as Neville prepared their tea and collected her thoughts. Despite her knowledge that things hadn't changed between them, she still felt like there was something to be resolved, she just couldn't determine what. Ginny's words from the night after her birthday rang in her ears:  _Maybe...he wants to do it again._

In all her worry about how Neville might react and how things might change, Hermione hadn't spared a thought for her own reaction. Did she want to have sex with him again? She'd be crazy not to want to have sex again — it was the best sex she had ever had, and that was saying quite a lot, considering that she'd just dated  _Blaise Zabini_ —

Her train of thought was interrupted by Neville's return to the living room, two steaming mugs of tea in hand. "There you go, careful, it might be hot," he said as he placed her mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her before sitting on the large couch next to her. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

Before her birthday, Hermione might not have noticed exactly how attractive Neville's smile was. She had realized, of course, that the man was handsome, but largely in the same way that she knew Harry was handsome. Now, however, his smile all but took her breath away. She cleared her throat before attempting to answer his question.

"I have still been feeling quite insecure about how we left things, I was still so worried that having had sex with one another might really change things between us. Being here with you now makes me feel almost foolish for entertaining the notion for as long as I have," she rushed out nervously.

He gave her a warm smile. "Not exactly what a bloke wants to hear when a witch he's bedded tells him she can't stop thinking about their admittedly thrilling time together, but I'll take what I can get," he laughed as she swatted at his shoulder.

He grabbed her wrists in an attempt to stay her attack and pulled them toward his chest, bringing her upper body closer to his. Their laughter died off slowly, looking at each other's faces as they calmed. Somehow, they had ended up quite close together on  _that_ couch — again. The scene was so similar to her birthday it almost spooked her and she would have been lying outright if she tried to deny a hope that this night would end in a similar fashion. Neville's expression shifted as she watched him. She was surprised by the hunger his expression held— it was something she was unused to seeing on the faces of men who looked at her.

He surged forward then, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss that set her whole body aflame with want. Hermione placed her hands on his chest, running them down over his abs before smoothing one back up his chest and around his shoulder to rest on his back. Her other hand found its way beneath the elastic waist of his joggers and cupped his hardening member firmly.

Neville moaned into the kiss and bucked against her hand as she squeezed him more firmly, then stroked him a few times. He moved from her mouth to her throat then, where he kissed and nipped lightly, careful not to leave marks that could not be easily glamoured or healed quickly with average strength bruise paste.

"Fuck Hemione, that feels so good," he moaned against her throat. Hermione shifted until she straddled his lap, and pushed his chest until he was lying on his back on the couch. She began kissing down his throat and chest until she reached the waistband of his trousers. She tugged the joggers and his pants down together, releasing his fully hard cock, which bounced up against his stomach before standing proudly pointed toward the ceiling.

Hermione released a low moan as her mouth began to water at the sight of him. She gripped the base in one small hand while she ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft, his moans spurring her on. When she reached his tip, she circled it with her tongue before taking him in her mouth, sucking hard. Immediately he moaned loudly and thrust shallowly into her mouth, his hand coming to rest lightly on the back of her head. She smirked around him, the knowledge that she was bringing him pleasure was a heady motivator and turned her on more than she realized it would— her previous partners had not been quite so vocal. Hermione began to take as much of him as she could into her mouth and pumped her hand around the rest.

Eventually, Hermione broke away from her task to begin to remove her own clothing, shucking her Ministry-issued robes and wrap dress quickly, revealing her blue bra and grey cotton knickers. She didn't own many matched sets but idly wondered if she should invest in more. Filing away the thought for later, Hermione grabbed her wand off the coffee table, quickly banishing her undergarments to her dirty clothes bin at her flat. She did not have long to ponder that as Neville quickly pushed her knickers aside and thrust up, entering her only slightly, but pushing further in with each shallow thrust.

Neville slid his hands from where they rested on her hips and up her sides to palm a breast in each hand, allowing Hermione to ride him in earnest. She placed one hand on his chest and snuck the other between their bodies to rub the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Their sexual chemistry was electric and for that Hermione was grateful, soaring higher toward her peak with every thrust.

She moaned loudly and with abandon as she drew closer to her orgasm, she felt herself tightening around him, leaving every moment feeling even more deliciously stimulating. She felt full to bursting, he was bigger by far than anyone else she had been with— bigger still than even the largest toys she had been brave enough to purchase.

When she came, her entire body stilled and tensed atop him, his hand replacing hers on her clit, continuing to stimulate her with his thumb and gentle thrusts as she came down from her climax. When she came down from her orgasm, he was smiling up at her. Neville pulled her down toward his face so that he could kiss her, slowly but with as much heat as when they had started.

He tightened his arms around her as he lifted her and carried her to his bed, much as he had the first time, the biggest difference being that they were still attached when he started walking. When they reached his bed, they continued on for several positions and three more orgasms for her, each more powerful than the last.

Eventually, they collapsed next to each other on the bed, a mass of sweaty limbs, breathing heavily.

"It would seem," Neville began, rolling over to place a kiss on her shoulder, "that we are not particularly good at keeping our hands to ourselves."

Hermione laughed through her nose before fatigue got the better of her and she fell asleep wrapped in his embrace.

* * *

When Hermione woke, it was to the smell of something delicious cooking. She grabbed one of Neville's shirts off a chair he kept near his bed, which, like the jumper, was extremely long on her. Unlike the jumper, however, this one fell just past her knees and the sleeves were far longer. He was a good deal taller than her five-foot-one-inch frame, but it was never more apparent than when she borrowed clothing from him, be it a jumper, jacket, or shirt.

When she found her way to the kitchen, Hermione discovered that the pasta that Neville was preparing was the source of the delicious smell.

"I didn't know you cooked," she mused, trying to steal a taste out of the pot before he lightly smacked her hand away from the spoon.

"How do you think I feed myself? Did you think that I only eat Hogwarts meals and takeaway?"

"I just hadn't considered it, is all. Most people who grow up with house-elves never learn, they just buy or inherit house-elves when they establish their own households, after all," she shrugged.

"I learned from the Hogwarts elves, actually, when I got this place. I wanted a little more independence, didn't want to have to rely on the school for every meal if I could help it. Plus it impresses women," he shot her a cheeky grin and she lightly smacked his shoulder.

"What are you making?"

"Spaghetti Bolognese, but I make the sauce with ground turkey and extra veg."

"It smells amazing, is it almost ready? I skipped lunch today." As if on cue, Hermione's stomach gave a loud grumble. She blushed brightly and he gave a sympathetic laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She flushed at the action, trying hard not to read too deeply into it. They were friends — who, granted, had just had sex — but just friends all the same.

"Just now, actually," Neville responded, looking at the clock on the wall. He served them each a bowl and they settled around the kitchen table to eat. It tasted as good as it smelled and Hermione moaned after her first bite.

"Give a bloke some warning before you go making noises like that, blimey," he joked. "If I'd cooked for you any sooner, we might have found our way into bed together quite a bit earlier," he added, shaking his head as they shared a laugh, Hermione's faded blush returning in spades. He'd never made her blush before he'd seen her naked, and now that he had she didn't seem to be able to turn it off.

"As cute as you look with a blush on you, you know you don't have to be embarrassed around me all of a sudden just because we've slept together a couple of times, right? I'm still me," he chided easily, as though he was reading her mind.

So they were going to keep talking about it, then. If he could be nonchalant, she could do so, too.

"I can't help it! I get like this with anyone who has seen me naked until I get used to the idea. My body isn't really anything to write home about, so I get a little self-conscious when putting myself on display," she groaned. When she looked back at Neville, he was staring at her, fork stopped halfway to his open mouth.

"Is that honestly how you think of yourself?" he asked quietly. Hermione found that she could no longer meet his eyes, and so instead opted to shrug while looking at the wall. Neville put his fork down and reached for her hands."I always thought that you were the prettiest girl at Hogwarts." At this, she scoffed. "I'm being genuine. You were always so kind to me and encouraging, how could I not have found you to be the most lovely thing in the castle?"

"Thank you, Neville. That's very kind of you to say," the pair resumed eating and talked about all manner of subjects that interested them, falling into the easy friendship they had always shared. Hermione really did enjoy spending time with Neville, their friendship had, until recently, always been so uncomplicated and easy.

Perhaps that was why she was having such a hard time wrapping her head around this new turn their relationship had taken. She had never had an easy time seeing sexual intimacy as casual, not that she had tried particularly hard. Her parents had always been progressive in many ways but held fairly traditional attitudes about sex. She honestly couldn't remember a time in her life where she had heard her father even come close to mentioning the act in her presence, and whenever her mother would speak to her about sex she referred to it as "making love," whilst strongly encouraging Hermione to wait until marriage. All in all, her upbringing had been extremely clinical when discussing the act of reproduction, making it sound as though sex were exclusively for trying to have a baby instead of also for pleasure.

Unsurprisingly, snogging Viktor Krum in fourth year had turned her world on its head. She didn't think she would enjoy kissing anyone in the first place and was truly surprised at how much she enjoyed kissing Viktor. After the first time he had kissed her in the stacks of Hogwarts' library after he asked her to the Yule Ball, she had shared her surprise with Ginny. Upon learning of her friend's perceptions of sex and sexuality, Ginny had made it her mission to re-educate Hermione on all things related to boys and sex. The entire point, according to Ginny, had been to "learn how to take command of your own pleasure, because life is too short to wait for boys to learn on their own."

Viktor was an excellent kisser and very respectful, keeping his hands on her waist until he had been granted express permission to place them anywhere else. Once he'd received that permission, his explorations of her figure had still been fairly tame, palming a breast or an arse cheek over her clothing. After the second challenge, she had been feeling a bit bolder and allowed him to bring her to orgasm using his fingers in a dark alcove in an abandoned corridor. He had been the first boy she'd allowed to touch her so intimately and she was glad she had chosen him.

With Ginny as a sounding board and confidant, Hermione was able to form her own opinions about sex — independent of what she had been taught at home — and was able to discover what she thought was the right path for her. Sex could be wonderful and beautiful and as long as you were safe and with someone you trusted. Her rule of thumb when deciding to sleep with someone was to ask herself: if the protection fails and I end up pregnant, could I see myself co-parenting with this person? This was an unlikely scenario, she took her monthly potion like clockwork, on the fifteenth of each month at 9:30 at night just before bed, and always used a backup until or unless she was serious with someone, but there was always a chance. Still, it had saved her from many a bad drunken decision.

That had to be why it had been so easy for her to find herself in bed with Neville repeatedly. She trusted this man with her life, he would undoubtedly stand by her regardless of where this...whatever it was between them lead.

"— and then the poor thing passed out cold, just like I did. I thought I was never going to like Mandrakes after that class and I doubt poor Stevie thinks he will either, now. He was so embarrassed the next class the poor lad could barely look at me. I kept him after class and told him my story. Told him a bit about why I don't hate them quite as much as I thought I would, they did get you back to us and for that, I'll always be grateful. Left out the bit about how you got petrified, though. Figured he was nervous enough about the plants in the greenhouse, he didn't need to be having nightmares about giant snakes roaming the castle and petrifying folks," Hermione realized her mind had drifted away from their conversation when he stopped talking, flushing as she realized she'd just been so lost in thought that she had missed almost his entire story. One hand flew to her mouth over how neglectful she felt she had been.

"I am so sorry, Neville! How incredibly rude of me. I haven't been sleeping all that well recently and I think it's just catching up to me. Please forgive my wandering mind," she reached out and squeezed one of his hands in an attempt to demonstrate her remorse.

"It has gotten pretty late, and we were fairly active earlier—" he winked at that, "—so I don't blame you one bit. Get yourself home and try to get some good rest, alright?" He gave her an understanding smile, and Hermione felt her shoulders relax immediately.

"I suppose I can try. We should try and have dinner more often. This was very nice and I don't see nearly enough of you."

They both rose from the table and headed toward his den, where Hermione found her clothes neatly folded on a chair next to the floo, her cloak draped over the back. She gathered up her clothing and gave him a one-armed hug before throwing a pinch of powder into the fire and calling out her address. As she readied herself for bed, she thought that perhaps it would be best to let whatever was happening between herself and Neville continue on as it was instead of worrying about what it meant. Once ready, she donned the same borrowed jumper she had been wearing since her birthday and climbed into bed. She slept more soundly that night for the peace of mind she now had.

Even though they did not wake her, her dreams were just as vivid as before, and now featured new material.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so incredibly patient with me!! I am so sorry that I disappeared and missed an update! This chapter fought me tooth an nail, but I finally finished it and got it cleaned up and ready. I've had an insane few weeks at work and I'm still dealing with my ankle injury (turns out I tore a ligament-- go figure ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯) and preparing for the surgery I'm having in a couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm finally happy with it myself. Thanks, as always, to blankfish who has helped me with almost every single word on this one lol, don't know how I'd do it without her. I'm on facebook as RE Simon and on tumblr at resimonfics. Please leave some love in my comments, they give me life and I got one today or yesterday that gave me the final push to finish the thing.

**Chapter 4**

October 8, 2005

He  _had_ to be doing this on purpose. He simply had to have put himself together in such a way that he knew it would drive her mad to even  _look_  at him. She and Neville were both at a joint party for Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan's birthdays — the fifth and the tenth of October respectively — which was being held on the weekend that fell between the two. All the Gryffindors from their year, plus respective spouses and partners, were gathered at a trendy new restaurant in Diagon Alley.

Neville, as her luck would have it, was sat directly across from her, looking good enough to eat.

He was wearing a crisp navy button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and charcoal grey trousers, both garments tailored perfectly to his frame and showing off his beautifully sculpted physique. Hermione had never particularly considered the base of the throat an overly attractive part of the body, but that may have had to do with the fact that she had not previously spent much time looking at the dip of  _Neville's_ throat, peeking out of a fitted shirt. She wanted to lick it. Truthfully, she wasn't sure there was any part of him she  _didn't_ wish to put her mouth on at that moment.

She was certain she had been staring, and she knew this for exactly three reasons: First, on the few occasions she had caught his eye, he smirked at her and sent her a brief, hungry look that made her feel like he wanted to take her then and there. Second, the few times that she had looked away she nearly immediately caught Ginny's eye, the other witch's face would immediately split into a massive, Cheshire cat grin and she would discreetly make rude hand gestures. It backfired on Ginny at least once, and much to Hermione's horror,  _Harry_ had caught his wife making a gesture that he believed was meant for him, at which time he tried to sneak her off to the bathroom with her for a quickie between the salads and entrées. There was one point during desert where Hermione was even certain that  _Dean_ had caught her staring and winked at her. It had been at that point that she excused herself to go to the loo.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment before charming her makeup in place and splashing her face with cool water. She and Neville hadn't even discussed what they were to each other, let alone what, if anything, they were going to tell other people about their clandestine liaisons. She needed to get a grip before she gave all their friends the wrong idea and scared him off. Resolved to be more polite and keep her eyes to herself, Hermione decided to return to the table. Upon her return, however, she found that only Neville remained, all the couples having left. Once she reached the table, he stood.

"Everyone else wanted to go start dancing, so I said I'd wait for you so you didn't think you'd been abandoned," he explained at her questioning look. Neville took her hand and started to lead her to the dance floor. It would certainly not be the first time they had danced together as they had long been the only single friends in the group and would often pair off when neither had brought a date to these get-togethers, but it felt so different now. He noticed her hesitation immediately and turned to look her directly in the eye, still holding her hand.

"Nobody knows...what do we tell them?" she asked, looking around nervously.

He smiled at her. "Hermione, it's not as though we haven't danced together before. If they ask, tell them whatever you like— we can keep it all to ourselves if it makes you more comfortable. They're our friends, but we don't owe them any sort of explanation. That said, they may catch on once we start dancing because," he leaned in so he could whisper the next part in her ear, "I've been waiting to get my hands on you since you walked in looking the way you do and I'm not sure I can keep them to myself now that you're close enough to touch."

Hermione blushed bashfully at that. She hadn't thought her outfit was particularly sexy. She was dressed in a black blouse with a black blazer over top, a black sequin skirt, black tights, and modest black heels. She had her hair up and minimal makeup on, and she  _had_  felt pretty when she left the house, certainly, but she hadn't thought she'd looked quite as good as Neville seemed to think. Knowing that he felt she looked so good to him, however, bolstered her confidence and she lead him onto the dance floor.

They may have danced together before, but never like this. They held each other close, his hands on her hips and hers wrapped around his neck, hips pressed close together, chests touching. They moved to the rhythm of the music, holding each others' gazes as their bodies moved together in time with the beat. Even fully clothed, his body just felt right against hers. She'd always been petite and at that moment she felt completely dwarfed by his taller, broader frame.

The longer they danced, the more intense the energy around them became. Hermione tried to break eye contact, looking briefly at the dip in his throat again, but he put a finger under her chin and tipped her face back up toward his. "Do you want to get out of here?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Neville wordlessly nodded and took her hand, leading her behind him out of the club and into a nearby alley where he placed one hand on her waist, the other on the side of her neck, and pressed her gently against the wall before claiming her lips and the very breath from her lungs. His kisses were unlike what she would have thought they would be—while he had long ago shed his timid, clumsy persona, he still left an impression of gentleness and softness.

His kisses were anything but. They were commanding and fiery and passionate, still gentle and soft, but so much more. It was as though he poured every ounce of the shared affection between them into each kiss.

This thought startled her a bit, she was thoroughly unprepared for the idea of feelings developing between them. At the moment it felt as though it had come out of nowhere, but it was something she had worried about from the moment she woke up after sleeping with him the first time. Maybe she was developing feelings for her friend, and, if she were being completely honest, she couldn't identify any downside other than the possibility that he might not feel the same way. That thought was pushed abruptly out of her mind as Neville's hand crept fully under the hem of her skirt, palming her arsecheek.

"I have been waiting to kiss you  _all night_ ," he said against her lips, drawing her mind back into the moment as he kissed her a few more times before continuing. "Sitting across from you the whole night has been torture. I just kept thinking about all the  _filthy_  things I wanted to do to you," he squeezed her bottom and thrust his hips against her, pressing his hard cock against her stomach for emphasis.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered, "Hold that thought," before apparating them into the living room of her flat.

The very moment their feet hit the ground, they began tugging at each other's clothes, the kisses growing more desperate as the pair grappled to expose as much of the other's skin as they could, desperate for contact. Neville paused his movements and muttered a spell against her lips, banishing all of their respective clothing. The rush of cool air on her heated skin was surprising but left her even more aroused, she wasn't sure she would ever  _not_ find his wandless spellcasting dead sexy.

"I rather liked that outfit," she protested, her tone void of ire.

"So did I— it's why it's in your hamper," he grinned at her cheekily.

She laughed before she resumed kissing him fiercely as he began to back her up toward the nearest wall. Once her back made contact with the wall, he placed her arms securely around his neck, grabbed her behind her knees and lifted her off the ground, shifting his hands to rest on her bum once he had her between himself and the wall. With his right hand at the small of her back, he quickly slid his left around to line himself up with her opening before sinking into her waiting warmth. She had already felt almost impossibly aroused, but being stretched around his cock had yet to fail to leave her panting and ready for more.

"Bloody hell," he puffed out a large breath once he was fully sheathed. "Always so fucking tight. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, it's like you were made for me," he murmured into her shoulder as he began a moderate pace — not  _slow_ , but not quite pounding yet. From this angle, he was hitting all the right spots inside of her and brushing her clit with each stroke. She felt her orgasm barreling toward her as she clung to his shoulders. She felt herself tightening around him and he must have noticed, too, because he began to increase his pace and the next thing she knew she was seeing stars behind her eyelids.

Neville continued to thrust through her orgasm, slightly more shallowly than before, his slow, deliberate thrusts helping her wind down from her powerful orgasm. She leaned her head forward a little in an attempt to indicate that she would like a kiss and he did not disappoint, leaning forward and kissing her sweetly before nuzzling his nose against hers.

"You're so beautiful," it was barely a whisper, and she wasn't even sure he had actually said it, at first. She didn't have much time to think on it before he began to pick up his pace again and she felt herself barrelling toward a second orgasm, pulling him over the edge with her.

He lowered them to the rug below them, laying down in front of the hearth, lighting it with his wand, retrieved from the floor nearby. She found herself suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable laying next to him, and wasn't entirely certain why. As though sensing her conundrum, Neville gathered her into his arms and tucked her under his chin. The relief was near-instant, the reminder that when all was said and done he still cared for her — he was still her friend — was a balm to her nerves. They lay in each other's embrace in front of the fire for a long while, snuggled together until it got too cold to remain fully naked laying on the floor. The pair eventually made their way to her bed and fell asleep cuddled together once more.

* * *

October 29, 2005

After they had married, Harry and Ginny Potter jointly decided that they'd had enough sad Halloweens for one lifetime and decided to reclaim the holiday with a party every year, determined to enjoy themselves and live their lives to the fullest in the "true Marauder Spirit". Harry had also learned from a journal of his mother's that was hidden away in his vault that Sirius had always loved celebrating Halloween due to its proximity to his birthday, so Harry had determined that a party was absolutely in order.

The party was always a good bit of fun. Hermione especially enjoyed how they combined muggle Halloween and wizarding Samhain traditions— the party was always fancy dress, Harry typically had several magically carved pumpkins, they set an empty place for those who had been lost, drank mulled wine and cider, and ate an indulgent fest all while sharing happy stories and memories of those who had been lost.

Hermione had left choosing her costume to the last minute and in a rush to get to the party on time, Hermione dressed in a pair of fitted black pants, a black top, charmed realistic-looking cat ears and a tail onto herself, and drew a nose and whiskers onto her face. She wasn't thrilled to be dressed as a cat; much as she loved them, she had never fully gotten over her accident with Millicent Bulstrode's cat hair and polyjuice potion in second year. Most of her friends were unaware of this incident, but all of the people who knew were, unfortunately, going to be present. She was bracing herself for their ridicule because there undoubtedly  _would_  be ridicule.

She was one of the last people to arrive at the party, and it was in full swing when she stepped out of the floo. Harry and Ron had been standing next to the floo when she arrived and immediately upon seeing her burst into hysterical fits of laughter, collapsing against one another to keep from falling to the floor.

"Yes, it's very funny, so glad you are amused. At least I've dressed up," she poked Harry in the chest for emphasis. Ron was dressed as a pirate, but Harry appeared to not be dressed up at all.

"Oi, I am dressed up! I'm Harry Potter," she simply stared at him for a full thirty seconds, mouth agape.

"You're bloody Harry— no.  _No._ Go put on a costume, it's your party, you're a wizard, get creative," she shoved a laughing Harry up the first few steps toward his bedroom to transfigure a proper costume, Ron continuing to laugh as he followed behind her.

"I told him you weren't going to like it," Ron's wife, Susan Weasley (neé Bones), giggled as she came up to the pair and wrapped an arm around her husband's waist. "I'm so glad you were able to make it last week! It's been nice to see so much of you lately. Whatever's changed, it seems to really be having a positive impact."

Hermione forced herself to fully suppress the shiver that wanted to run through her at the memory of Susan's birthday party that had taken place the week before; or, more accurately, her evening  _after_ Susan's party. She and Neville had managed to sit next to each other at this party, and she'd left her hand on his knee under the table through the whole dinner. Susan's dinner was a quiet affair hosted at their home and Susan cooked for everyone, insisting that all she wanted for her birthday was to hear about how good of a cook everyone thought she was. Following the admittedly delicious meal she and Neville had snuck back to her flat again — he had been off breakfast duty the following morning — where he'd brought her to a record-breaking  _five_  orgasms before he let her go to sleep that night.

As if on cue, Neville ran past, chasing around a handful of the various children present at the party and Hermione felt her stomach fill with butterflies. An image of Neville chasing after a curly-haired, blonde toddler popped into her head unexpectedly and she nearly stumbled. They had never talked about the future yet— they'd not yet even bloody talked about whether they were a  _couple_ , and she was imagining their possible  _children_.

She had it bad. She wasn't sure when, exactly, she had caught feelings for her friend, but she could no longer deny that she was rapidly developing romantic feelings toward him and that fact spooked her a bit. She was left feeling so dejected after Blaise's cool rejection of the notion of a shared future and she wondered if this contributed to her current apprehension over the deepening of her feelings for Neville. Surely he wouldn't be quite so cruel, however unintentionally, in his rejection of her, but she wasn't quite sure she was ready to give him up. That said, she had better discuss it sooner than later with him — before she got in too deep and the pain of losing him would be too great.

At times it felt as though he could read her mind, because as soon as she had resolved to speak with him about their situation in the coming days, his eyes met hers and his face brightened and split into an ear-to-ear grin that seemed to light up the whole room — as though the sight of her brightened his entire day — which she returned, allowing herself to feel the tiniest ray of hope that maybe things could move forward between them.

"I'm not entirely sure who you two think you're fooling," a friendly voice whispered in her ear just as Ron and Susan walked away, "but you're so  _visibly_  lost over each other, it's almost sickening." Hermione whipped around to see a laughing Dean Thomas.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about, Thomas. I am not trying to fool anyone about anything, and have no idea whom the other party which you are referring to could possibly be." Even  _she_  heard the shaky tone of her robotic lie, and she cringed inwardly at the hearty laugh she received in response.

"You've always had this tell in the time that I've known you — you get extremely formal when you're bluffing. Plus, Neville might have already told me what's been going on between you," she wasn't sure why she was surprised at this, but was determined not to slip in case Neville hadn't, in fact, done just that., She did her level best to maintain a calm countenance, all the while unable to ignore the way her heart swelled with hope at the idea of even a hint of truthfulness behind his words.

"Has he, then?"

"Yup! Did you think you ladies were the only ones who talk about your feelings with your mates? My money is on Ginny. I figure your, er,  _physical_ relationships aren't exactly something you discuss with Ron and Harry." Hermione hummed in affirmation while grimacing at the thought of discussing her sex life with either of the boys. Dean chuckled at her expression.

"You're good for him, you know? We were convinced for a long time that Casa-Neville was never going to settle down, mostly because the pair of you were being too thick to see what was right in front of your faces the whole bloody time. It was right frustrating if I'm honest, but not our business to interfere. Seems like he might be good for you, too." Dean patted her on the shoulder before moving on to talk to one of the Patils across the room.

When she next saw Neville, he was walking up to her with two cups of mulled wine in hand, seemingly haven shaken his pint-sized entourage. When he reached her, he gave her one of the cups and a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you! Looked like you were having fun with the little ones earlier, I was almost jealous. They only seem to seek me out when they want a cuddle and a story, but then again I get to cuddle them and read them stories, so I guess it's not all that bad."

"It was fun, they're good kids. I can't believe how big Teddy is getting. Before we know it he'll be in my first year class," he took a sip of his wine and looked thoughtful for a moment, almost as though he was deeply considering his next words. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and continued, "I've always wanted a brood of my own. You know how lonely it can be, growing up an only child. I am glad my kids will have others around constantly to play with."

"I know what you mean, I feel the same way. I was such an awkward girl before Hogwarts, between being magical and being an only child, I'm glad my children will have an almost endless number of playmates." Strangely, for as much as the idea that Neville was willing to discuss his hopes for his future with her calmed her frayed nerves, the moment the mulled wine hit her tongue, a wave of nausea started swirling in her stomach.

"Are you okay? You're looking a bit peaky." Neville felt her forehead before placing his palm on her cheek. "You feel a bit clammy, too, if you'll pardon me for saying," he whispered.

"I'm fine, truly," she reassured him even as she swallowed thickly in an attempt to stifle the sick feeling. "I may have skipped lunch today, wine has never sat well in my stomach when empty." She smiled at him a bit wanly. She went to stand up and her stomach leaped into her throat, causing her to immediately sit back down. "Definitely should have eaten something first— do you remember—"

"Eighth year Valentine's day?" he finished for her. "How could I forget? I told you not to skip dinner—"

"I had work to finish before I could celebrate and I just ran out of time!" She defended, lightly smacking his arm.

"Well then let's definitely get you some food. I can't allow a lady to starve, s'not very gentlemanly at all, and living through that once was more than enough." he held out his elbow for her to take and when she did, lead her to a couch and took her food order, leaving her only long enough to go gather the food she requested. As she suspected, as soon as she had something in her belly, she felt better, but she still stayed away from wine for the rest of the evening.

They sat and talked for a couple more hours at the party — at times just the two of them, but also with various friends, Harry eventually re-emerged having donned a leather jacket and charmed his hair longer stating that he was now dressed as Sirius Black — before sneaking away to apparate back to Neville's cottage.

Upon landing one of them stumbled and they ended up in a heap on the ground in his garden, which was still lush even in the late October chill —which, Hermione now noticed, was absent from the garden altogether. Neville chuckled when he saw her looking around the garden confusedly.

"I use localized weather charms. It's always seventy degrees out here regardless of the time of year."

"Impressive," she said, somehow feeling even wetter after hearing of his expertise.

"Thank you," he said, the tips of his ears going a bit pink. It was when he placed his hands on her hips that she realized she was still laying on top of him on the ground in his garden. As she made to try and get up, he held tighter, leaning up to kiss her soundly.

"Not so fast. It's nice out here, and I've wanted to have you, in the garden, since about the first night I had you at all,"

She fully squawked at this. "We are outside! What if somebody walks by— what if someone from the school comes by to see you? It's too risky."

"The risk is half the fun. We are completely blocked from view by the plants, and even if we weren't, the place is fully warded, it keeps anyone who happens by from seeing me — even if they know I'm home — until they're within the wards. The other professors won't be coming by, I'm always off for the Potters' party so they don't even expect me to be home yet."

Instead of responding to this information with words, Hermione leaned down and kissed him. He was right. The risk of being seen, however well moderated by the wards, did add a certain amount of naughtiness that was undeniably arousing. She banished their clothing to his hamper and ended the charms that made up her costume before riding him right in the garden chasing her release as though there were a 100,000 galleon reward for its capture.

As she lay on his chest in the soft grass, she decided she would discuss her feelings with him in the morning. She couldn't continue down this path and allow her feelings to grow if he didn't feel the same way. She couldn't lose him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, having major orthopedic surgery really takes it out of you. Who could have guessed? I am so incredibly sorry that I disappeared again for so long! I really wasn't expecting my surgery to knock me so fully on my butt. Major beta love to blankfish who has been such a huge incredible help to me through this chapter and a great cheerleader through my ongoing recovery. I hope to have the next chapter out really soon, but probably not before my entry in TheMourningMadam's Fairytale Fest goes up. Hope you all enjoy this chapter and please be sure leave me some love in the comments!

**Chapter 5**

October 30, 2005

Hermione woke slowly as the morning light began to shine through the window in earnest. She groggily snuggled back into Neville's embrace while trying to bury her face in his bicep in an attempt to block the light from her eyes.

It was only then that she realized it wasn't the light that had woken her so much as Neville's hand working away at the apex of her thighs.

She released a sleepy moan and spread her legs to give him better access, and Neville lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip and slipped his already hard cock into her waiting channel. Hermione hadn't realized how wet she already was and it occurred to her that he must have been teasing her for a good bit of time before she woke. She loved the way he filled her, the way she felt stretched around him, and from this angle, he felt even bigger. They kept an easy, sleepy pace, finding their releases almost simultaneously. They both rolled onto their backs to bask in the afterglow, smiling at each other.

"I could get used to waking up like that," she grabbed his large hand in her smaller one and kissed his knuckles.

Neville grew quiet then, looking pensive. "Are you interested in that? Getting used to it, I mean," he asked quietly.

"I think so," she responded, trying her level best to keep the anxiety from her voice, not entirely succeeding. When he heard her trepidation he rolled up on his side and pulled her close. She settled against the warm expanse of his chest, knowing she could be comfortable staying that way for the foreseeable future. "I think I'd like to give it a real go with you, I think we'd be good together."

He smiled broadly. "Are you saying you want to be my  _girlfriend_ ," he teased. She groaned and rolled onto her side, pressing her face into his strong chest.

"I think I'd really like that, I just don't want to ruin everything between us and end up losing you forever. I must sound like a broken record right now, but I really worry about it," she said quietly, her heart clenching at the thought. "I've never managed to stay completely friends in the long term with anyone I dated."

"Then we won't let it get to that point. We will take our time and if it looks like it won't work out, we can figure out the issue and either continue on or do our best to part as friends, even if it means giving up some of the best sex either of us has ever had," he laughed and kissed her temple and got out of the bed to pull on some pajama pants. "You staying for breakfast? I can do banana pancakes this time." She smiled broadly at this. Banana pancakes had always been her favorite and she was extremely touched that he remembered. He was constantly showing her that he had been paying attention to her for far longer than she had any idea he had been.

She flooed home after a thoughtful and delicious breakfast and took in her flat. She had enough time for a bath instead of a shower and thought a soak might do her some good. She headed to the bathroom to begin drawing the water before she tossed last night's clothes in the hamper and pulled her hair up off of her neck with a large clip and settled into the water with a contented sigh. She was happy and looked forward to seeing where things went with Neville in spite of her fears.

* * *

They had attempted to convince Molly on more than one occasion that she should let someone else host and coordinate her birthday celebration, but the woman insisted that it brought her the most joy to take care of everyone. The nicest thing any of her children could do for her birthday, she insisted, was to come home with their own children and let her take care of everyone. As such, everyone made sure to really spoil her with their gifts.

Hermione always had more fun picking out Molly's birthday gift than she had picking out any other gifts throughout the year. This year she had put together a sort of self-care basket: A nice bottle of Molly's preferred wine, a bottle of bath salts scented like rose and infused with a calming draught which benefited both the skin and the mood of whatever witch or wizard happened to use it, a hardback copy of a bodice ripper from an up-and-coming witch, and a very nice quality yarn from a muggle store her own mother favored.

When she arrived, Molly was in the kitchen, bustling around the various dishes that were all in their final stages of cooking. She knew the older woman did not enjoy having a public fuss made on her behalf, so she presented her gift in the kitchen in only the company of Ginny, Susan, and Molly.

It was now just the four of them in the kitchen — everyone else was milling about in the den or out in the garden, entertaining children where warming charms had been applied — and Molly decided she wanted to share a glass of wine between the four of them before dinner, considering that it  _was_ her birthday after all. When Susan declined, everyone was surprised — she normally loved a glass of wine and Hermione could not think of a time when she had seen the other witch refuse.

"We didn't want to tell anyone yet, it's still early — and we didn't want to steal attention away from you on your birthday, Molly — but we've just found out I'm nearly two months pregnant," Susan explained, smiling brightly. It was wonderful news, and they all took turns hugging her close.

"I didn't even realize you were trying," Molly said through poorly stifled tears.

"We weren't actually. There was a mix-up at the apothecary and apparently, some people got the wrong one two months in a row! Some idiot wasn't paying attention and accidentally stored the weekly vials upside down so the 'W' read like an 'M.' Looks like you and Zabini broke it off at exactly the right time, huh 'Mione?"

Hermione barely heard the rest of what Susan was saying through the sudden rushing of blood in her ears as she sat down hard on the chair behind her.  _W….M._   _She_ was on the monthly potion, too. She reached out to steady herself the countertop hard as she tried to calm her breathing. Missing her period in and of itself wasn't so unusual for her while she had been on this potion, so it hadn't surprised her when she did not have one in October. She couldn't be…

Her hands automatically flew to her flat stomach as she tried to slow her flying heartbeat, to no avail. She tried to catalog any possible symptoms she'd experienced, but all the memories warped into vague scenes of her hookups with Neville.

Neville. Oh gods,  _Neville_. Her hands felt glued to her stomach even as she felt bile rising in her throat and felt the urgent need to clap her hands over her mouth instead.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she noticed that the room was turning slightly on its axis and the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Neville running up from where he had just stepped out of the floo to catch her before she could hit the ground.

* * *

When she woke, Hermione immediately recognized her surroundings as Ginny's childhood bedroom. She started to wonder how she could have ended up there when the conversation in the kitchen came hurtling back to her at near light speeds. She sat up quickly and leaned over the side of the bed — where she was glad to see someone had put a wastebasket — and violently expelled what felt like all the food she had eaten that day. She barely registered someone holding her hair back for her and rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and attempted to catch her breath and she reclined back on the pillow once she was sure she was done.

Instead of looking at Neville, she focused on her breathing in an attempt to stay her panic. She needed to tell him. He was speaking to her, but she could barely focus on his words over her panic.

"—I finally got Molly to go back downstairs, she's right worried about you, I tell you —"

"How did you  _possibly_  convince Molly to go back downstairs?" she croaked, cracking one eye to look at him.

"I told her I had spoken with you earlier and said you hadn't been feeling well and that you'd probably just pushed yourself a bit far. I also told her that I would let her know when you woke up, but I thought you might want a minute before I did that," she nodded, knowing that she wasn't feeling quite ready to face Molly's mothering, much as she loved the woman.

"Did anyone tell you what we were talking about before I fainted?" she asked cautiously.

"No, I just assumed you are sick and pushed yourself too hard, as I said to Molly. Why? What's going on?" he asked, his features drawn with concern.

"Susan is pregnant. She said the apothecary mixed up the weekly and monthly potions the last two months. I take the monthly potion, and I missed my last period," her vision was already swimming again as she obvious conclusion glared at her mockingly. "Neville," her voice was a pained whisper, "I think I might be pregnant."

Ironically enough, the only word she could think up to describe the silence that followed was "pregnant." It felt like he was staring at her in shock for fifteen minutes, but in reality, it was probably no more than five or ten seconds.

" _What?_ " Neville's eyes were wide as saucers, he blinked repeatedly as he scrubbed his hand down his face. Just then, Ginny knocked and came in carrying a plate of food.

"I think Mum might like you better than me. Even when I was sick growing up she never let me eat up here. Neville, I can sit with her for a bit if you want to go grab a plate," Ginny said, smiling brightly as she walked up to Hermione. Neville looked to Hermione, asking silently if she would be alright. Hermione nodded and he leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and left to make a plate.

When Neville got up to head down for some food, Ginny took up his place on the bed. Once the door was shut, she turned to Hermione with a knowing look. "Didn't Remus and Sirius both refer to you as 'the brightest witch of your age? I would have thought you'd have an easier time telling the difference between an 'm' and a 'w,' even if they look similar upside down," she smirked at Hermione and bumped her shoulder with her own. "Do you need me to cast the charm for you?" Hermione nodded. She appreciated how direct Ginny was in moments like this. Her friend knew that she took the monthly potion and exactly why she had fainted without needing to be told.

"I need a moment, though. I like living in this moment of ignorance. Do you think I could live here forever?" Hermione groaned. Ginny sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug.

"Would it be so bad to have a baby with Neville? I honestly don't think I could name anyone better, he'll be an excellent father and you know he'll support you in whatever you want to do about this."

The two just sat there for a moment, Hermione wrapped in Ginny's embrace, soaking up the comfort she had to offer. Eventually, Hermione sat back and nodded toward her abdomen. Ginny cast a silent charm over Hermione's stomach and a bright, white light began to shine above her.

She was pregnant.

" _Bloody_ hell _,_ " Neville said from the doorway.

"Excuse me," Ginny said, ducking out of the room, leaving her and Neville alone. He sat heavily on the bed and looked at the wall for a long moment before he turned to her.

They sat in silence for a long moment. She was afraid to look at him. They'd only just decided to start dating that morning — this was too much too fast. What if he didn't want kids? What if they weren't a good fit after all? What if they discovered they hated the way the other chewed or snored or left their dirty laundry on the floor next to the hamper instead of actually in it? She wasn't ready for this and she didn't know what to do.

"Maybe we should get married," Neville said quietly.

She snapped her head up to look at him so quickly it almost hurt. "Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I think we should, erm, get married?" he stammered as she continued to scowl at him.

"How can you possibly be so casual about this? This is serious, Neville!  _Marriage_ is serious. I'm  _pregnant_. We're having a baby, you can't just casually suggest marriage the same way you might suggest popping out to the pub for dinner instead of cooking in!" At that moment, Hermione was too lost in her panic and anxiety to notice the pained expression that crossed his face at her reaction.

"Hermione, I didn't mean—"

"I can't do this right now, I have to go." She stood and moved quickly toward the floo, brushing off his attempts to get her to stop and listen to him.

She ignored him as he called out after her as she all but ran down through the kitchen and into the fireplace, throwing down a pinch of powder as she went.


	6. Not a Chapter, Brief Life Update

Hi all! Sorry to have vanished for a while there! Between recovering and working full time I found myself stretched thin for a bit there. I’m still in recovery, but it’s winding down. I’m also not currently working full time, so that’s opened up my schedule a bit. 

I was finally getting ready to get back to writing this story, my muse was making a reappearance and then my ex asked for a divorce for his birthday. Needless to say my life has been turned completely on its head in an extremely painful way. 

I’m good now, though. Mostly.

I’m starting to sloooooowly begin writing again. I can’t make any promises about when the next chapter will come, but it will. Probably soon, but it’ll just depend. 

I’m happy most days, it weirdly feels almost like I’ve been let out of a box, which probably says a lot more about the state of my marriage than anything. 

I’m also a treat and he’s an idiot to have let me go. 

Thank you to everyone who has continued to read and comment during my absence, the comments have meant more than you realize.


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